Live from Austin!

Wednesday we got a courtesy car pick-up from the rental company. We rented a Toyota Prius. I was intrigued by how well a hybrid gasoline/electric car would work, and this seemed a good chance to give one a thorough test drive. Or rather, for sara to give one a thorough test drive…

What we hadn’t been expecting was that it was a fully tricked-out Prius, complete with GPS satellite navigation system and route finder DVD-ROM for the onboard computer. We told it to take us west to the coast, and then south to the Monterey Bay Aquarium via the coastline route. It verbally directed sara out of the city. What with the directions and having our position shown on a scrolling zoomable map at all times, we were both able to forget about navigation and concentrate on the scenery. (Sand dunes. Surf. People surfing.)

As we arrived at the aquarium, it was otter feeding time. There was an enormous crowd of people around the tank, so we went out onto the deck instead and looked out into the bay. Sure enough, there were wild sea otters floating out in the kelp beds! Four of them. With the aid of the 18x zoom on the camcorder, I got some DV footage of otters at play.

We were hungry on the way back, so we asked the car to find us a nearby Indian restaurant. It turned out we were just off the El Camino Real, probably the world’s largest strip mall, so that wasn’t a problem. Unfortunately the first restaurant was closed, so we had to argue with the car a little to get a route to a different place. Phil Dick would have loved it, walking into a restaurant because our car had recommended it…

We got an average of over 50mpg, both city driving and highways, even with San Francisco’s hills to deal with. We travelled 280 miles total on $10 of gas, which was half a tank full.

I noticed that IBM had a huge ad on the freeway exit that leads to Oracle’s headquarters, saying “Our database software is the #1 seller. Now, who’s got game?” Larry Ellison must be really pissed off.

I dream of shoes…

Actually, it was about shopping, which is even sadder. Except I couldn’t go shopping because I didn’t have a reasonable pair of shoes.

I think it’s subconscious anxiety about the fact that my new Birkenstocks haven’t arrived. I bought them in San Francisco, which has an excellent Birkenstock store—go figure. A pair of sandals to replace the current pair which are wearing out, and a pair of something that looks like black canvas trainers, except they’re not, hopefully to replace the beaten-up Reebok Classics.

Did a bunch of chores yesterday. Tidied my desk, copied all sara’s old Zip disks onto a CD for her, installed Norton on her G4, shredded some old receipts, put the Lynx up for sale on eBay, moved the 8500 into the front room in preparation for selling it, and rewired the speakers in the computer room so I could have my SoundWorks system back.

I’ve had backache since SF. I was unlucky with the hotel bed; the last two I’ve experienced have been fine, but this one wasn’t good enough. I’m almost recovered now, but it’s been an unpleasant week. The problem seems to be that after sleeping on futons for over a decade, my back muscles go nuts if presented with a conventional mattress of anything less than stellar quality. I think I’m going to have to get a Japanese bedroll that I can take with me on future vacations. Anyone have any advice?

It’s strange how things get filtered though my discomfort. I was watching celebrities being interviewed, and suddenly I started to wonder if any of them had special mattress requirements. I suppose I’m starting to understand why some famous people have standard lists of special requirements for their trailers and dressing rooms. It’s just a matter of wanting to be able to get up and feel like a happy, healthy human being so you can sieze the day. Maybe I should start to write my list:

• There will be a futon mattress in the bedroom.

• The bed will have a duvet, not sheets and blankets.

• Pillows will be foam, not feather.

• There will be cafe latte available at around 09:00, and nobody is to attempt to engage me in unnecessary conversation before I’ve finished drinking it.